


Crushed

by TheTyphonSerpent



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Bug, Flash Fiction, M/M, i love the i just came here to return this book trope and you will pry it from my cold dead fingers, mention of canon character death, not like multiple bugs but literally one bug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-07 00:24:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16843432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTyphonSerpent/pseuds/TheTyphonSerpent
Summary: Hawke is outside gardening when Anders hears a screech. He and Fenris run out. There was a bug that flew at him.





	Crushed

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally a prompt from the dapromptexchange! Check it out here and reblog the original: http://typhonserpent.tumblr.com/post/172369005737/

Anders hadn’t left Garret’s side since the night of Leandra’s death.

It hardly seemed fair that everyone still asked for his help in his darkest hours. Anders had taken to strategically hiding letters that arrived, ‘accidentally’ letting them slide behind the desk so Hawke wouldn’t have to read them. When a knock sounded at the estate’s door, he all but flew through the kitchen, nearly knocking Orana over as he passed her while she was washing dishes. “Sorry!” He called, but couldn’t risk stopping as he raced past Bodahn as well. “Don’t worry, I’ve got it!” He said as he passed.

He panted, and a few stray strands of hair fell over his face as he paused at the door. Straightening, he opened it and poked his head through. “Sorry, Hawke is out at the moment, so you’ll have to come back-Fenris?”

The elf had a book in one hand, lip curled and looking slightly disgusted at the sight of the mage. He cocked an eyebrow. “If he is out then why are you here?” He asked, arms crossing.

Anders opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again looking not unlike a babbling fish. “I … uh … Why are you here?”

Fenris held up the book in his hands. Paper scraps of various sizes stuck out every few pages. “I am here to return Hawke’s book.”

Anders reached for the book. “Alright, I’ll take it-” He began, before being cut off when Fenris held it just out of his reach.

“I was hoping to go over some of it … and … check on him.” He looked down as he spoke.

Anders sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Alright, fine.” He took a step back, opening the door a few more inches, “You can come in, just-hey” Fenris pushed his way past, cutting off Anders mid-sentence.

“Where is he?”

“He’s in the garden, but if you-”

“You left him _alone_?”

Anders rolled his eyes, “Oh, come on, he’s in mourning, not on suicide watch. He can be alone in his own garden.”

A high-pitched scream made both of them swivel.

To deep to be Orana, and so clearly coming from that direction of the house. The pair bolted, making for the back door and once again eliciting a yelp from the elven servant as she hopped out of their way with an armful of dishes.

Anders arrived first, spying Garret booking it from the patch of dirt where he’d been tending a row of tulips, his hoe abandoned on the ground. The couple would have crashed were it not for Garret’s decision to leap into Ander’s arms, halting them both a few steps outside. “Oh, Maker, I hate this! I hate this!” Garret cried, burying his face into Anders’ feathered pauldrons.

Fenris strode past the pair while Anders soothed Garret, “It’s alright. I know you miss her. Everything’s going to be alright.”

Fenris bent down, and lifted a long, wriggling insect, pinched between his fingers. Hawke yelped a second time, tensing in Anders’ arms.

“A centipede?” Anders had to hold back a scoff.

“I hate those things, kill it!” Garret cried.

Deadpanning, Fenris looked at the creature, its whole body lashing angrily and pincers trying but failing to gnash through his gauntlet. In one deft squeeze, he pinched it until its body broke clean in half and fell back into the dirt. Garret almost immediately relaxed.

Anders set him down gently, letting Garret set his feet on the grass before he let go. His lungs still heaved with adrenaline, but pants grew into giggles in short time. Hawke ran his fingers through his hair, straightening his stance, “Sorry, you must think I’m a real chicken now. Carver used to sneak those into my shoes when he found one. He thought it was funny that I was so scared of them.” He laughed, still a bit breathy, a bright grin that Anders couldn’t help but reciprocate. 

For once, Anders bit his tongue against the urge to blurt something out. If he did he was afraid it would ruin this perfect moment. In the two weeks that had passed since Leandra’s death, it was the first time he’d seen Hawke smile like that.


End file.
